


Unexpected Boyfriend

by breejah



Category: Marvel (Comics)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Awkward Crush, Boys Kissing, Breaking Up & Making Up, Canon Divergence - Post-Avengers (2012), Cosplay, Crack Fic, Dating, Don't Try This At Home, First Meetings, Fluff and Crack, Fondling, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Male Slash, Meeting the Parents, Mutual Masturbation, Oral Sex, Propositions, Public Blow Jobs, Public Hand Jobs, Rimming, Semi-Public Sex, Shotgunning, Smut, Unexpected Visitors, Valentine's Day Fluff, Wall Sex, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2019-10-08 09:49:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17384216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breejah/pseuds/breejah
Summary: Peter met Wade and saw stars. Afterwards, he thought it was a one shot deal. Turns out, he was wrong. This is the story of how Wade met Peter and rocked his world and heart.***A series of random one-shots for Spideypool fans, written as inspiration strikes. RatedEfor a smorgasbord of potential sexual tropes. Tags will be updated appropriately as the fic evolves.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I know, it's probably an affront to all Marvel fans everywhere that I admit when I say: Spiderman (until recently) was never really a fan-favorite of mine. Thankfully, some AU comics brought me into the fold and with the love of a certain merc with a mouth, I've really come to like the idea of Spideypool. These two have really grown on me throughout the years. 
> 
> This fic will just be a series of one-shots from their life with (most likely) smut scenes aplenty. I don't have a set schedule for this fic, I will just add to it as inspiration hits me, so be forewarned this will get random updates.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter met Wade and had an amazing night. Too bad Wade keeps coming by, asking for more than Peter is sure he is willing to give. In the end, Wade wears him down in the best way possible.

“Ugh, not _again,”_ Peter groaned, closing his eyes as he unlocked his apartment, noting the half-empty plastic bags of Mexican food and the two ko katanas on his kitchen counter. “ _Pool!_ Seriously?” He shouted as he slammed the door closed, bolting the locks and flipping the device by the door, shielding their oncoming argument from bug-detecting technology, just in case anyone on his ever-growing list of enemies had discovered where he stayed. This was an argument best left between them both, if it went where he was suspecting it would. “Wade, seriously, we’ve talked about this. You can’t just keep crashing here as you see fit.”

“Aww, why not, String Bean?” Wade teased, coming around the corner, in pink boxers decorated with a pattern of flying pigs - and nothing else. Peter tried to steer his gaze away, but didn’t, not after what they'd done once upon a time, back when he didn't know better, and by the expression on his face, Wade must have thought his next action was allowed, stepping forward  and kissing him noisily on the mouth, leaving him shocked and without a voice. Wade merely blew him a raspberry as he pulled back, then shoved a spoon full of chimichanga bits and mexican rice into his mouth. Finally able to rationalize thought, he tried to tell Wade off and get him the hell out of his apartment - and his confusing intentions regarding one mercenary with a mouth (and boy, what a mouth it was) but found himself effectively silenced with the spoon hanging from his lips. Wade grinned, as if that's exactly how he planned it, ignoring Peter's muffled protests as he prowled back into the living room. “Oh, shush, you know you like it when I show. All that prickly exterior aside, who turns down free food? Make yourself a plate! I got you all the good stuff, babe.”

Cursing his luck, he sat out doing just that, annoyed that Wade was right - who _did_ turn down good free food? - stripping out of his work gear, setting aside his backpack with lens and special camera inside, and made himself a veritable feast before venturing back into the living room in a t-shirt and shorts. He _wanted_ to tell Wade to get lost, flushing at the thought of the kiss they had just shared - and the drunken moments they’d stolen last month when he’d helped him fight off Electro, then limped him back home, into bed, with drinks and a round or not-so-sober-yet-mindblowing-all-the-same-sex - and plopped down beside him. Now, Wade stopped by whenever he felt like it, only teasing the occasional kiss, but it was enough to leave Peter angry and horny for more, if he ever worked up the nerve to tell him. Wade may have looked like the inside of a toaster oven at the best of times but there was something about the way he carried himself that Peter loathed to admit he liked - a _lot._

Wade was testing him - and them - he could tell. Still, he didn’t want to admit he liked Wade, since from what he could tell the man fucked anything that moved, and some that didn’t if you counted toys as items of pleasure. Peter was afraid he'd grow to like him, then get hurt when Wade only wanted a casual fuck-relationship. You never could tell with Wade, where his loyalties or heart may lay. 

“What the hell are you watching?” He bit out, his tone as testy as his mood, eating the food Wade had brought by. He hated to admit it was delicious.

“That strange female wrestling show, Glow,” Wade commented, tugging Peter close enough that he could loop an arm around him but still remain unassuming. Peter tensed, not liking that the mere act of being close to Wade aroused him, and chewed dutifully on his food. “How was work?”

Peter knew it was a twofold question. Did he mean his work, as in photography? Or his work, as in crime fighting? Choosing to carefully answer both, he shrugged. “Fine.”

“Can I touch your cock, then?” Wade asked so casually, completely out of the blue - in the blandest tone possible - it didn’t even register to Peter until he had simply nodded and his hand was halfway down his pants.

“What the _fuck?!”_ He barked, nearly dropping his plate over both of them, but not before Wade had gripped him and stroked a few times with precise, exquisite movements. He bit down on his lip so hard, he was surprised he didn’t taste blood. He was mortified to admit how hard he was, even with the evidence in Wade’s hand, and was trying pitifully hard not to moan, despite knowing Wade could tell how excited he was. Hell, he was dripping all over the both of them, but some things his pride wouldn't overlook - like letting out a moan, all but announcing that he wanted Wade to continue to do that, continue to come by, continue to rain him unexpectedly with kisses, and so much more.

“Hate to break it to you, Kid, but that’s a hell of a hard-on for someone you pretend to hate,” Wade teased, making Peter tense, but Wade pushed him back on the couch, grabbing Peter’s plate with his free hand and setting it aside. “Just close your eyes and pretend I’m some chick you’ve been crushing on at work if you can’t stand the idea of this. Because I’ve made up my mind - I'm sucking you off and you’re going to enjoy it.”

He didn’t close his eyes, snapping his gaze down to where Wade pulled his length out from his shorts, made a hungry noise in the back of his throat as he stared, then took him so smoothly into his mouth Peter let out the very groan he tried to deny moments earlier before he could control it.

Unable to say no, he gripped Wade’s shoulders as his mouth moved - hot, suctioning pulls, a flirt of wet tongue across the ridged underside of the head - and within seconds he was ready to come. _Christ, this is embarrassing,_ he thought, letting out another groan as Wade no doubt tasted the precursor to his climax. “Wade, slow down…” He tried to warn him, but Wade wasn’t letting up.

Giving into the urge, he bowed briefly off the couch, and let go. It felt _so fucking good,_ he couldn't stand it, plunging headfirst into an orgasm so strong, he saw stars.  _Fuck, what a mouth,_ he thought weakly, as he came on a harsh bark, gripping Wade’s shoulders so tightly, he heard the faint noise of bones grinding beneath his fingertips. Luckily, Wade healed fast.

“ _Ffffucccckkk,”_ he ground out between pants, depleted after several minutes of mind addling spurts into Wade’s mouth, of which he watched him take with aplomb, falling limply back onto the couch, head spinning. "Jesus, you nearly killed me."

“There now, that’s a good boy,” Wade admonished, patting his semi-flaccid cock with a finger as he sat back and admired his work. “All better.” Wade tilted his head up, meeting Peter’s perplexed stare with a grin, then settled back onto the couch beside him. Peter didn’t fail to note his own arousal and flushed, reaching for him, surprised when Wade batted his hand away. “Later.”

“What the hell?” Peter asked, annoyed he was being denied and yet also disappointed he was. “You suck me dry and won’t let me touch you now? What shit is this?”

“The kind of shit that makes you feel guilty, like you owe me a favor,” Wade replied, pleased with himself, a grin on his face as he tugged his arm back around Peter and made a shushing noise. "Now hush, this looks like a good part."

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?” Peter barks, furious and confused, after several seconds of the show flickered past on the screen.

“I’m going to keep coming here, bringing you dinner, sucking your dick so much better than that queen MJ used to do, and you’ll eventually feel so bad you’ll give me what I want,” he replied back, like he hadn’t a care in the world, his eyes glued to the television show in front of them. His tone was so full of self-assurance that Peter sputtered, trying to understand whatever the hell  _that_ meant.

“And what do you want?” Peter growled, furious to finally admit Wade was right. Wherever he got the food, it was delicious. On top of that, whatever Wade did with his mouth hit _every damn button he had_ and he hated how much he wanted it again.  

“A date,” Wade replies, making Peter stare incredulously. “Otherwise I’ll just keep coming by with food and blow jobs and wear you down, through your stomach and your dick. _Or,”_ he points out cheekily, “We can circumvent all this and just date, like two dudes who like each other. Which works for you?”

“Why the hell are you doing this?” He argued, furious but aroused all over again. Wade actually _liked him?_ Wanted to date and - better yet - _fuck him?_ He wasn’t sure how to respond, so he just gaped at the man.

“Because I like you. You have a nice big tasty cock, you treat me like I’m something special when we both know I’m not and - is wanting to date you so bad?” Wade asked, eyes wide, glancing over at him at last.

Feeling suddenly guilty for all but attacking him since that one night stand they had a few weeks back over his own confused emotions, Peter sighed, shaking his head, and released the tension in his frame. “No, it’s not. But like - seriously? Food and blowjobs? That’s your ‘wear me down’ idea? What made you so sure I’d say yes?”

“I wasn’t sure, not til now,” Wade grinned, making Peter scowl, which he smoothed over with a kiss. “And I really like sucking your dick, pretty boy,” he whispered in his ear. Peter could barely bite back a groan. “Besides, we both know the guilt card would have eventually worked.” He didn’t want to admit that Wade was right in that regard. He got as much pleasure from pleasing his partner as he did in a release himself, something else Wade sensed about him but didn’t say.

“Don’t tell me you’re giving them up now that you’re my boyfriend,” he hedged, staring. Wade grinned back, tugging Peter closer, placing a kiss against his mouth that left him breathless and aching.

“Oh no, sugar britches, there’s plenty more where that came from. But not until you wine me, dine me, and let me fuck you senseless. Then, all bets are off.”

Together, they fell back onto the couch - this time, with wandering hands, and maybe a casual orgasm or two brought about by excited, wet fingers. Wade laughed, then groaned, hoarsely proclaiming he was finally happy to join the ‘Netflix and Chill’ club.

Peter merely laughed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few months into the future, those three little (but so important) words slip out and things go....not as planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time jump and adding a chapter for a Valentine's Day challenge. Prompt: Fight and make up. (in this case, with sex). Enjoy.

Peter sat alone at the booth in the back of the small dive bar, nervously staring at the door. Checking his watch, he sighed and ran a hand through his hair, reaching for his backpack that was laid out beside him in the booth. _He’s not coming. Fuck._

He felt torn - relieved that the conclusion he’d painfully seen coming to their romance had finally reared its ugly head, and yet, he was surprised at the sharp jab of pain he felt suddenly underneath his breastbone at the reality of it.

They had been dating for a few months now, Wade nearly living with him, even going as far as claiming a section of his closet and a small space in his bathroom for his toiletries. Now, Peter was worried about the awkward confrontation on what to do with all the stuff. Would he come over, yell at him, then grab his shit and go? Or would he text him and ask him to mail them?

Peter couldn’t decide which hurt worse.

 _Why did I have to do it?_ He asked himself for the twentieth time that day. _Why’d I have to go and ruin it?_ There was no beating around the bush, he _had_ ruined it - just that morning, in fact. Wade had come in, tired and sweaty, which always aroused Peter, and before Wade could mutter that he wasn’t in the mood, Peter was kissing him and they barely managed to make it to the bed before they reached for protection and fucked each other into oblivion. He never did make it into the shower.

When they’d woke, Wade had showered, and had woken him by sucking him off. Right after he’d exploded in Wade’s mouth, he’d muttered the words that had ruined everything. “I think I love you, Wade.”

Wade had froze, his whole body jerking back as he stared, wide-eyed. Peter had felt gutted, watching even his impressive erection suddenly deflate. Was his proclamation _that_ unappealing?

Then it just got worse. He was so hurt, he couldn’t even stand to look at Wade, wobbling to a stand and grabbing his shorts. He heard Wade clear his throat, the sound hoarse, perhaps a bit vulnerable, but he was already reaching for the window sill to the fire escape.

“Listen, kid, _just wait_ \--I…” Wade had started, but Peter didn’t listen, just shot off a length of webbing and took off. It embarrassed him, the sting of tears sliding down his cheeks, and he left him before Wade could see them. He suddenly felt cheap, _dirty,_ that he’d even let Wade touch him. He also hated it when Wade called him _kid,_ like he was twenty years younger than him rather than only ten. He wasn’t his fucking father, for Christ’s sake, he was his _boyfriend_ \- or was.

Hours later, he had finally returned, just with a note from Wade left on his pillow that said _‘Went out. Sorry.’_ He hated how he cried, _again,_ and finally got up after a few minutes of putting himself back together, texting his contact at the paper for something, _anything,_ to take his mind off this morning’s fall out. When he’d texted Wade to meet him at the bar where they often would go for drinks after dinner, he got no response.

Tugging his phone out of his backpack, he texted quickly back, then just shut off his phone for good measure, throwing it back in his bag before moving towards the door. _Look, don’t worry about it. Was fun while it lasted. Tell me what to do with your stuff._

He didn’t look at the places in the bar they’d sat at, having their first make out session after going official, or where they’d laughed and made friends with a few couples down the street. Nor did he stare at the alley, near the dumpster, where Wade had acted so crazed, like he couldn’t wait to get him home, that they’d hastily fucked behind a cluster of trash cans and Peter had been so turned on, he didn’t care who heard his muffled scream as Wade orgasmed inside him.

“Going somewhere?” Wade’s cool voice startled him out of his morose line of thoughts, just as he had lifted his hand to cast a web and shoot off to his apartment. He squeaked as Wade gripped his wrist, twisting his arm and looping it painfully against his back, making his feet give to relieve the pain, sagging against Wade’s side. He flushed when he felt Wade’s soft grunt, and the hefty ridge of his erection riding his thigh.

“I thought--” Peter started, coming to a sudden stop when Wade’s grip tightened and he shoved him against the brick wall of the alley, roughly crashing his mouth against Peter’s own. Peter stiffened, then moaned, remembering Wade’s furious glare, the bright look in his eyes that spoke of equal parts fury and arousal, finally losing all train of thought as Wade kept kissing him like he wanted to devour him.

“You didn’t even let me finish my sentence this morning, asshole,” Wade muttered once he finally pulled back, dropping his mouth to nip at Peter’s throat, his grip releasing his wrist, but his body bracketing his, imprisoning him in place as his fingers wove through Peter’s hair, immobilizing him while Wade continued to assault his neck and jaw. Out of the corner of his eye, Peter could see his red merc gear, his hood tucked into his belt, and as he inhaled sharply after Wade left a bruising bite under his ear, smelled that _amazing_ scent Wade had when he was aroused or exhausted. Just as fast,  he was hard, his groin going hot, and tears once more stung his eyes. He snapped them shut, just as he felt Wade pull back, but not before he rolled his hips against his own - also hard and hot, rubbing their cocks together from where he had him pinned.

“ _Look at me,_ dammit,” Wade muttered, his tone sharp, and Peter couldn’t help but obey, snapping his eyes open angrily even as he felt a traitorous tear leak down past his eyelid.

“I’m _looking,_ you prick,” he hissed back, ignoring the frown that tugged at Wade’s face. He hated how _serious_ he looked, like he was about to break his _heart,_ missing the light-hearted Wade so fiercely right then, he hated himself for what he said this morning. “I know you don’t feel the same, so just fuck or kiss me and let’s end this farce of a relationship, so that I can--”

“I swear to fuck, if you don’t stop talking nonsense, I am going to give your mouth something to do and shove my cock down it, just so I can finish what I want to say in peace,” Wade growled, surprising Peter into stillness. _Did he just suggest….?_ His cheeks pinkened, and Wade grinned, the expression feral, as he ground his hips once more against his own, reminding him he was just as aroused as he was. “In fact,” Wade muttered, gripping Peter’s shoulders, “turn around. Hands on the wall. _No arguing.”_

Peter did as he asked, embarrassed at how turned on he was. He felt Wade’s fingers jerk open the buttons of his jeans, shoving them and his boxers down, tugging his backpack loose from his shoulder so it could thud gently to the ground, and - knowing they were far enough away and shielded from the pedestrians on the street - let out a faint moan when he felt Wade’s fingers find his entry and press inside.

“Now, where were we?” Wade panted, and Peter heard the soft _zip_ of Wade’s own pants loosening, along with the crinkle and rip of a condom wrapper before the glassy hot top of Wade’s cock found his ass and pressed slowly inside, “I get to finish what I want to say. Touch yourself, babe. Now.”

Peter did, hearing Wade’s rough groan, and he began to move - slow, anchored thrusts, adjusted at the perfect angle to scrape against his prostate and have his own cock leak a steady line of precum across his fingers as he jacked himself in slow tandem to Wade’s movements. “Not too fast, babe, I need this to last for my speech.”

Peter choked down a laugh, which ended on a groan, as Wade leaned forward, nipping at the base of his neck while he moved - fast, hard, steady - then slowed once more. “You ran off before I could get over the shock,” Wade rasped, his teeth nipping at Peter’s shoulders, as Peter sagged against the wall, fighting his own rising need to come, _hard,_ at how well Wade could fuck him. “I’ve only heard those words from my fucking _mother,_ let alone some gorgeous, too-perfect young kid like you, and..”

“ _I’m not a fucking kid!”_ Peter yelled, instantly furious, but Wade only gripped his hips and fucked him harder, hotly demanding he _not come,_ and Peter immediately quieted down, forcing all his attention back on not exploding in his hand. It was hard, with the way Wade knew how to touch him, move with him, rub him _deep inside,_ and he whimpered at the control it took.

“You’re really ticking me off, _BABE,”_ Wade muttered, his own tone sounding strained, as if he too was fighting to stay calm, on the brink of climaxing himself, but after several groans and a few well-aimed thrusts, he seemed mostly back in control. “ _As I was saying,_ before I was so _rudely interrupted,_ was -- I fucking love you too, god dammit.”

Hearing _that_ from Wade made Peter tighten around Wade and Wade groaned, going at him _hard,_ his control snapping. _“Fuck. Come now. Come RIGHT FUCKING NOW!”_

He couldn’t have stopped himself if he wanted to. He jerked his cock hard - three full fist pumps along with Wade’s rapidly thrusting cock against his insides - and he exploded, groaning out Wade’s name hoarsely as he felt every spurt shoot a small loaded ball of explosives into the back of his brain, setting off his nerve endings into a riot of fire. Wade’s cock flexed and throbbed inside him and Peter tightened down, enjoying the sounds and sensations he felt, knowing Wade was as mindless in ecstasy as he was.

Suddenly, a red card was slapped against the brick wall, next to Peter’s head. He blinked, looking at the card, that Wade had hand drawn with _crayons_ of all things, showing the two of them - stick figure style - holding hands with hearts. _‘Love you, u bastard’_ was written in glitter ink.

“Happy Valentines Day, you fuck,” Wade muttered in Peter’s ear, still half-erect and buried inside him. Peter stared at the card, having totally forgotten to get him one.

Suddenly, he began to laugh.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter surprises Wade with a sexy setup, but it's ruined in the best (worst?) way possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired on a random whim, so adding to this and returning it to the light-hearted territory this fic was meant for.

He was nervous as hell, something his doctor told him was normal with the anxiety disorder he’d recently been diagnosed with, as he waited for Wade to get home, shifting his hips as he sat there - bare-assed and covered only in an apron - staring at the front door to his apartment. Wade had been very supportive and nothing but understanding since Peter’s overreaction at the bar a few months back, and when Peter announced he was going to start therapy to deal with their extracurricular activities - and his hangups about their relationship - Wade had shocked him by even going with him.

Now, they lived together and everything was (mostly) perfect.

Feeling his limbs tingle, he smiled and sat up straighter, hoping Wade liked what he’d arranged, his Spider senses now even attuned to when Wade was near. He had taken off early to spring an early anniversary gift on Wade - their own secret retelling of one of Wade’s favorite movies - American Pie - and he gathered his resolve and shifted his expression into a ‘come hither’ look.

The door swung open and Wade stood there, as expected, but something was wrong. He wasn’t smiling, in fact  - he looked horrified. Peter blinked, dropping his pose, a frown tugging at his lips, but before he could say anything, he noticed who was with him.

 _Oh no, oh fuck. Today? He brought her by_ **_today_ ** _? Shit! Fuck, fuck, fuck,_ **_fuck_ ** _!_

Peter jerked, feeling his face explode into a riot of color, as his eyes jerked towards the older woman at Wade’s side. She blinked, looking him over so thoroughly Peter wasn’t sure whether he should be offended or embarrassed, then surprised him by grinning and looking at Wade. “You always did like the pretty ones, dear. He’s lovely.”

Wade was too busy staring, his facial expression shifting between horror, amusement, and shock. His mouth finally closed shut when she spoke and Peter stared in fascination as the man with no shame whatsoever actually _blushed._ “Heh, yeah. Thanks, mom.”

Hearing _that word_ brought back the awkwardness to a near painful level. Hailey Wilson stepped forward, slipping her hand out of Wade’s and offering it to Peter. He couldn’t do anything but sit there, terrified and embarrassed and amused, as he shook it, struggling with what to say.

_Hi, Wade’s mom. Yes, I’m sitting on the kitchen counter butt ass naked, with nothing but an apron on. We like to fuck and get creative. At least my dick isn’t hard, yeah?_

He said none of those things, of course, glancing to Wade for help. His boyfriend wiped a hand over his face, casting Peter a faint smile before closing the door and grabbing a robe by the laundry nook, setting it on Peter’s shoulders.

“So--uh--why don’t you put on some pants and we take mom out for Chinese at that joint we like?”

“Yeah,” Peter found himself saying, staring again at Hailey Wilson, who continued to smile, a twinkle of amusement in her eye as she watched them stand together. Feeling mortification creep up his face again, he leaned against Wade, relieved when he wrapped the robe around him.

“Don’t be shy on my part, Peter. I’ve no interest in seeing your assets, but I can tell you make Wade happy. All he ever talks about is you, when he’s not recanting his tales of killing bad guys.”

Peter eyeballed Wade, watching him shift uneasily on his feet. “You tell your mother about your merc career?”

“You think he could hide anything from me? I’m his mother, Peter. We have ways. He told me you lost yours. Your Aunt May is probably the same way, dear.”

Peter went red again, feeling a surprise sudden guilt that he hadn’t yet mentioned Wade - or the fact he liked both men and women, and was currently in love with a man - to her. He would never bring up his _other_ activities to her. She was all he had left and he couldn’t risk it.

Hailey, for her part, suddenly looked concerned, then gave Peter a quick hug. He stiffened, not sure what to do, but returned it, confused at the sudden show of motherly support.

“You’re perfect just the way you are, Peter. You’ve made my son very happy and I can’t thank you enough for that. Wade’s been through some tough times in his life. You are not one of them. Thank you for giving my boy a reason to smile again.”

Peter didn’t know what to say to that, but he suddenly tugged her close when she was about to pull away, moved by her words. His eyes moved over to where Wade stood, watching, his expression going soft.

 _‘Love you,’_ Peter mouthed, holding out an arm.

Wade grinned, mouthing the words back, then joined in on the hug.

“Wade, honey?”

“Yeah, mom?”

“Put your boyfriend in some pants. I’m hungry as a motherfucker. This old bitch needs some food.”

Peter blinked at the coarse words, but felt Wade tug him out of his mother’s grip, picking him up to carry him into the bedroom. Peter buried his face in Wade’s chest as Wade laughed, knowing where he got his sense of humor from. “Yeah, will do, mom.”

When they were alone, Peter slinked out of Wade’s grip, but not before Wade pulled him against him and kissed him breathless. “Was that an apple pie on the counter?”

"Yeah,” Peter chuckled, kissing him back. “We can share it later.”

“I can think of a few things I want to do with that filling later,” Wade purred, spanking Peter’s ass. “Get some pants on before I fuck you loud enough my mom can hear us.”

Peter practically ran for the bathroom, hearing Wade’s chuckle behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PS - Considering this is a crack fic most of the time, this is traversing into AU territory and in my fic, Wade’s mother is very much alive and supportive of Wade. Just in case anyone wants to point out Wade’s convoluted background to me.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade and Peter go to the movies, but not to watch the film.

“Shit yeah, babe -- just like that. Damn, that’s good,” Wade hoarsely praised, his fists tightening. “Just a little more, harder, faster, down furth --  _ oh fuck, right there,  _ **_shit._ ** _ ” _

Just like that, Wade was hissing between his teeth, his fingers knotted so tight in Peter’s hair, he felt a ripple of pinprick pain across his scalp, and he was coming down his throat. Peter moaned, keeping himself planted deep, his tongue pressed to the underside of Wade’s cock, so he could feel each small jerk of his cock as he spurt. Peter felt a little odd for it, but Wade had come that actually tasted  _ nice. _ Not that, you know, he knew a lot about what men’s come tasted like, but he’d been in college once and after a few dates that led to  _ stuff,  _ he had to say he was lucky that Wade was so damn edible.

Eventually, Wade sagged in his seat, and Peter came up for air, wiping his thumb against his lips as he quietly re-buttoned Wade’s pants and settled into the seat beside him. Thank fuck they’d chosen to go to the Chinese movie theater and the entire darkened auditorium was empty.

“Christ, I love you,” Wade slurred, kissing Peter and pulling him close once Peter sat down, ignoring his own erection. Wade was so comatose after his second blow job in under two hours, he just laid there, and Peter had to bite back a smile. 

“You’re only saying that because I just blew you,” he teased, kissing Wade’s cheek, canting his head to look at the aged film playing that he didn’t have a clue to what was being said. Wade hummed, stroking his cheek, the protest weak but there. It made Peter smile.

“So, about that invite to the Avengers,” Wade tried to turn the talk back to business, but Peter  waved him off. Steve and Tony had once again offered to let him join the team, after a few assists from Peter during some of their battles with their heavier foes, but Peter wasn’t quite sure he was ready to commit to that level of Superheroing just yet. Wade had been working with them off and on for years, given their age gap, and it continued to surprise Peter how much Wade pushed for him to join them.

“You know you can be on their reserves, right?” Wade murmured, turning to nibble at his ear. Peter flushed, feeling his cock throb in his pants, and - right on cue - Wade began to unbutton his jeans, reaching underneath his boxers for his cock. 

“I know,” Peter mumbled back, his own words losing their sharpness, as he moaned when Wade made a pleased sound, sliding the pad of his thumb across the tip of Peter’s cock, feeling that collection of precum that had settled in his boxers as he listened to Wade orgasm. “I just -- dunno, I’ll...think...about it... _ fuck. _ ”

Wade had slipped from his seat, taking Peter into his mouth just like he had moments ago. His mouth was always so warm, his tongue large and flat and -  _ Jesus,  _ what he could do with his mouth. “You always do this,” Peter whined, already too close and wanting Wade to make it last, but couldn’t contain the next moan that bubbled past his lips if he wanted to, Wade grabbing his hands before he could push Wade back, watching the man’s eyes flicker up to his before he sat out to swallow him in gusto. “I’m too close, it’s not fai-- _ ffuuuuccckkkkk _ .”

Wade groaned, sucking him hard and deep, watching as Peter sunk low in his chair and spread his knees wide, feeling euphoria sink down into his bones and explode out the tip of his cock. Wade always did this, always took him to the edge too fast, his climaxes hard and spontaneous and wrecking his calm, until Peter was nothing more than putty in Wade’s arms.

“Christ, I love how you look after those,” Wade finally said, when he was done licking Peter’s cock from a semi-flaccid state to once more a state of hard, throbbing arousal. “And you’re young, handsome, you're already bucking to go again, just like I like it." He gave Peter a brief pump with his fist, making him groan. "Just needed to taste you first, now I’ll go slow like you want. Don't think I'm going to give up this Avengers talk, though. How much time until the movie ends?”

Peter looked at his phone, desperately trying not to pant, but some of it slipped out, as Wade fondled his cock and began to roll his balls between his fingers. “Thirty minutes.”

Wade grinned, lowering his mouth. “Thirty it is, then.”

Peter blinked, his eyes widening, just as he felt Wade's hot cushioned mouth settle once more around his cock. “Wait, you’re seriously going to blow me for  _ thirty _ minutes strai-- _ oh shit _ .” 

He stopped talking after that.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade and Peter get invited to an Avengers Halloween costume party. They get inspiration from a certain alternate reality friend's costume ideas. 
> 
> **AKA** \- _When Wade and Peter Decided to Cosplay, Gwen Stacy Style._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is inspired by awesome Spideypool artist Ignacia on Twitter. Check out the art [here.](https://twitter.com/igvaranda/status/1113680242688831488)
> 
> I CANNOT BREATHE! Wade as Gwenpool?! Peter as Spider Gwen?! DEAD!

“I can’t believe you talked me into wearing this, babe,” Peter griped, picking a particularly uncomfortable wedgie out from between his balls. It didn’t help that his super secret vigilante costume maker couldn’t find the right material to make this particular getup and it felt three sizes too small.

 _Thank fuck Gwen is back in her dimension, though,_ he thought to himself as Wade grinned and blew him a raspberry, slicking up his lips with a shiny cherry gloss. _She’d either be furious I’m stealing her design or think it so funny she’d demand pictures to take home as proof._

“Oh hush, it’ll be cute. I’ll suck your dick later to make it up to you, if it’ll make you feel better,” Wade promised, making Peter’s cheeks heat when Wade went back to getting ready for the Halloween party they were attending - in matching _Gwen Stacy_ style. He was Gwen’s version of Spiderman, and Wade….

 _God, if this gets out to her dimension, I’ll never hear the end of it,_ he thought, eyeballing his boyfriend as he put the finishing touches on his costume.

They’d met an alternate Earth’s version of Gwen Stacy - a one-time crush of his when he was in High School in this world, a Spider-savior on her own - a few months back when they’d done some work for the Avengers. Wade had _insisted_ they work with Tony and Professor Banner, only to get sucked off to some other Earth where Gwen almost killed them before realizing they were vigilantes from another dimension, there to help her take down Olivia Octavia, who’s invention was warping their own dimension’s timespace continuum. Apparently in her world, he was dead and Wade was a normal merc (without the mouth). Other than getting along splendidly with Gwen, it was a depressing mission. A world without Wade as he was? A world where he had _died?_  

Shaking off the unease he felt remembering that mission, he looked again at his boyfriend and chuckled as Wade did a small twirl and shook his bottom. Wade was wearing an outfit Gwen had sworn was worn by another alternate dimension version of herself that _she_ had met years ago -- where Gwen channeled her own version of Wade Wilson, resulting in a white-and-pink girlish nightmare -- complete with a half body suit, exposing his admittedly stellar ass and quads, thigh high boots, gun straps, a sword, a half-mask and pink goggles. Wade looked so ridiculous that it actually looked cute as hell on him. And with the lip gloss?

For once, Peter entertained the idea of tucking back a corner of Wade’s leotard and sucking and rimming him at the party. Wade had already promised him a blow job, and with the way his costume kept everything under uncomfortable wraps, it would have to wait until they were home and he was ready to undress for the evening. But Wade’s costume? Totally accessible and able to be compromised. _Hmm…_

“I may take you up on that,” he murmured, leaning over and kissing Wade’s cheek. Since they’d been dating for over a year, professed their love for one another, and Peter had worked off his considerable anxiety at the first boyfriend he’d ever had _plus_ getting the blanket approval from Wade’s mother and his own mother figure, Aunt May, he’d grown comfortable with his wild ass man. “But you?” He continued, tipping his head to the side, knowing Wade couldn’t see the smirk pulling against his mouth, under the mask, “I may have to repay another way.”

Wade stared, his mouth quirking, telling Peter Wade wasn’t sure if he was upset or teasing, finally shrugging his shoulders as he slid the water guns he was toting into place against his thighs. Tonight, there would be no illegal weaponry. It was all for fun. In fact, Wade didn’t realize Peter had filled the water guns with bubble solution. He couldn’t wait to surprise him.

“Let’s go, or we’re going to be late,” he reminded Wade, steering him towards the door. Wade grabbed one last thing and together, they were off.

 

* * *

 

“Oh my God, _yes,_ please daddy, _harder!_ ”

The banging on the bathroom door didn’t deter Peter from stopping. Wade was as loud as ever, maybe even louder than normal, as Peter tongued his hole and worked his cock over in his hands. Precum made the stroking easy for Peter and when he pressed deep against his hole with his tongue, spearing inside him, he felt a shudder ripple through Wade’s frame. He had seconds before Wade was coming like the fourth of July. Quickly, he moved and swallowed his cock in his mouth, pushing his shaft down his throat, just in time to catch Wade’s shout of his name and to suck down his hot salty load into his mouth.

 _Yum, yum,_ he thought, pleased, pulling off Wade and watching his cock hang heavily between Wade's legs, shiny with spit and cum, still mostly erect and slowly subsiding. Normally, he wasn't this bold, but something about Wade's outfit, combined with where they were, not in the guise of their own vigilante alter egos, cranked Peter's gears today. Wade staggered until he sat down on the toilet seat once he was spent, trying to catch his breath. Thankfully, Peter's own suit was so damned tight, even with an erection the size of the Brooklyn Bridge, he was mostly discreet in his own arousal. Tucking his mask back into place after combing a few fingers through his hair, he watched Wade pant and then tuck his cock back into the confines of his leotard and straighten the stretchy fabric over his ass cheeks. His bulge was slightly larger than before, his cock still half-mast, and damned if it wasn’t the best thing he’d ever seen.

“For fuck’s sake, Parker, I gotta piss! Hurry up and blow him or open the door! I don’t care if you’re swallowing his spunk, I’m about to wet myself!”  Oh, Tony was _pissed._ It didn’t matter, the look on Wade’s face was worth it. He was pleased as pie at having made a ‘scene’ at Stark’s place.

Once Wade was back in working order, Peter unlocked the door, stumbling faintly as Tony shoved past him, tugging down his pants. Grabbing Wade, who was eyeballing their sometimes-employer with a little too much amusement and heated interest, he steered him out the door and towards the main party, where everyone was staring at them with either curiosity, disgust, or a mixture of both.

“Babe, you are _so_ getting laid later. In fact, I’m giving you a week’s worth of blowjobs,” Wade whispered in his ear when Vision looked their way and actually managed to turn red - well, as red as a robot could. Wanda just looked confused.

He struggled not to laugh, biting the inside of his cheek, once more thankful for the mask Gwen chose to wear over her face from her stint as a Spider-hero in her world. Maybe there was something to these flamboyant costumes after all.


End file.
